


Blood and Gunpowder

by Oxenmeek



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7509274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oxenmeek/pseuds/Oxenmeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My vision of how Junkrat and Roadhog became partners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood and Gunpowder

Roadhog had seen some horrific things. He had seen houses burned, lives destroyed. He had seen young children crying for their mothers with burnt and blackened skin, he had seen friends ravaged by radiation poisoning, sick and vomiting. He had torn omnics limb from limb as they begged for mercy.

Those sights and sounds were always in the back of his mind, but they had no meaning. He had buried his emotions, his conscience, to save his sanity.

Along with Mako.

Mako was weak.

Mako was too soft for this savage world. He had been crushed, eclipsed by bitter rage, loss, violence. He never could have stayed alive.

But 'Roadhog' could.

He surveyed the scene from his place in the dark corner where he wouldn't draw too much attention. He liked it that way.

Roadhog came to this bar once in a while, though calling it a bar was generous. It was a dingy shack where the local junker rabble would congregate, talk shit, drink cheap booze. His imposing size was usually enough to draw some nervous glances from the patrons, but tonight they had seemed too preoccupied to care.

Roadhog gingerly lifted his mask to take a swig of his drink, listening to the junkers bickering and talking themselves up. Bragging about their omnic body count.

Idiots.

If he wanted, Roadhog could decimate this place, slaughter them all.

Maybe he would.

He was becoming more nihilistic by the day. He let out a deep sigh and took another drink, starting to feel the burn in his belly. This was his fifth. He wasn't a cheap drunk. 

A commotion was stirring near the front of the bar, more than usual anyway. Roadhog heard a bottle smashed, raised voices, and a cackling high pitched laugh.

'Hey!' The gnarled old barkeep raised a massive gun.

'Beat it!' He roared.

Roadhog watched as they hastily exited, dragging someone behind them.

The next thing he heard was a boom that shook the rickety structure to it's foundation. Junkers screamed and ran for the door, in case the shack caved in completely. Glasses smashed to the floor, chairs toppled.

Roadhog grunted and stood up. Time to split, and he didn't even have a decent buzz.

He slipped out the back door, bowing his head under the door frame. Flaming debris was scattered around, and floating in the air. Three bodies lay in pieces, illuminated by flame and moonlight. The sour smell of blood and gunpowder hung in the air.

'You crazy fuck! You killed my mates!'

Roadhog turned and saw two more junkers, bolting after a third who was trying to stagger away. They tackled him and began beating him savagely, one straddling him and punching his face, the other kicking his ribs. Remarkably, he was laughing. A high, tittering giggle.

'Wankers.' He said, and spat a thick wad of blood 'Me granny punches harder than that.'

'Where is it?' The standing junker screamed at him. 'Tell us, or I'll gut you right here and now.'

He produced a long switchblade from his jacket. Roadhog saw it glittering in the fire light.

Before the junker could make good on his threat, he was separated in two. His top half was yanked meters away, the knife still in his hand. His bottom half remained standing for a brief moment before it fell, the innards splattering out on to the blood drenched sand.

The junker's partner turned his head, an idiotic look of shock on his face. He saw a massive creature step out of the shadows. In his hand was a bizarre looking hook, slick with blood and flesh.

A voice emanated from the leather hog mask which covered his face, it was dangerously low.

'Do you wanna join your buddies?' He pointed towards the desert and beyond with the gore-streaked hook. 'Go.'

The junker stood on trembling legs and took off into the night.

The only one left was the punching bag, a scrawny young junker with wild white-blond hair. His face and torso were already bruising, blood oozed from his nose and split lip. He sat up, wincing, and let out another shrill giggle, nodding at the legs and guts next to him.

'I guess he's not half the man he used to be!'

The kid doubled over laughing, before groaning and holding his damaged ribs.

Roadhog turned to leave, wiping the blood off on his pants. The kid was clearly insane.

Before he made it a few steps, he heard the kid again. 'Hey, wait!'

The filthy kid stumbled behind him, still holding his middle. 'You really saved my arse, mate. Those punks been on my tail for weeks, tried to fight me five to one! Pussies. Had to even the odds a bit. We sure showed em', didn't we?'

Roadhog grunted, still looking ahead. The bar patrons had fled, they were all alone. He could have killed this kid if he wanted. He still could. But he didn't. He wasn't.  
Why?

The kid was still chattering on. 'Not much of a talker, are you? What do you do for work? Is that thing heavy?'

Roadhog made no attempt at conversation. Stoically, he made his way towards his chopper, turning the last ten minutes over in his head. Why did he kill that junker? Was he just blowing off some steam? Or had he been trying to save this deranged kid?

He mounted the vehicle and heard a whistle from behind him. 'that's yours eh? She's a real beaut'.'

Roadhog chuckled for the first time and glanced down at the kid, who was wiping blood from his chin with the back of his hand. The kid's smile slipped and he sank to the ground, face twisted in pain.

'Fuck. Those cunts really did a number on me. Hope me gut's ain't bleedin.'

'Good luck with that.' Roadhog grumbled, and revved the engine. He didn't spend the last ten years slaughtering and pillaging and burying Mako to go soft now.

'Wait!' The kid cried. 'hear me out, mate. I got a business proposition for ya.'

Roadhog stalled the engine.

'Last month I found somethin'. Somethin' rare. Somethin' valuable. Every junker from here to the coast has been after me, tryin' to get their grubby hands on it. They're gonna kill me sooner or later.'

Roadhog looked ahead, listening. He had heard the rumors.

'That was some pretty impressive work, I bet you could hold your own against any one of these pricks out here. How 'bout you stick with me? You could be my bodyguard. Nobody would fuck with me with a big guy like you around. And I'll give ya a cut of this secret item everyone's been after. Trust me, you won't regret it, mate.'

The massive man looked up at the night sky through the dirty lenses in his mask. Was he really considering this?

Was it the appeal of more bloodshed?

Was it the manic spark in this kid's eyes?

Did he just want to have a purpose again?

He looked down at the kid again, who was staggering to his feet. He giggled, scratching his head. 

'Ah well, it was worth a shot.'

As the young junker turned to leave, a gruff voice said 'deal.' He turned to see The big man gesturing to the back of his chopper. 'Get on. I'll take you to someone who'll fix you up. Can't get paid if you're dead, right?'

A wide grin split the kid's bloody, battered face.

'You got it, mate. They call me Junkrat. What's your name?'

The other man hesitated, it had been years since someone asked him that. Under the mask, he smiled.

'Roadhog.'


End file.
